John Adams in his autobiography speaks of the necessity of choosing a Southern general, and also says there were objectors to the selection of Washington even among the Virginia delegates.  That there were political reasons for taking a Virginian cannot be doubted.  But the dissent, even if it existed, never appeared on the surface, excepting in the case of John Hancock, who, with curious vanity, thought that he ought to have this great place.  When Washington’s name was proposed there was no murmur of opposition, for there was no man who could for one moment be compared with him in fitness.  The choice was inevitable, and he himself felt it to be so.  He saw it coming; he would fain have avoided the great task, but no thought of shrinking crossed his mind.  He saw with his entire freedom from constitutional subtleties that an absolute parliament sought to extend its power to the colonies.  To this he would not submit, and he knew that this was a question which could be settled only by one side giving way, or by the dread appeal to arms.  It was a question of fact, hard, unrelenting fact, now to be determined by battle, and on him had fallen the burden of sustaining the cause of his country.  In this spirit he accepted his commission, and rode forth to review the troops.  He was greeted with loud acclaim wherever he appeared.  Mankind is impressed by externals, and those who gazed upon Washington in the streets of Philadelphia felt their courage rise and their hearts grow strong at the sight of his virile, muscular figure as he passed before them on horseback, stately, dignified, and self-contained.  The people looked upon him, and were confident that this was a man worthy and able to dare and do all things.

On June 21 he set forth accompanied by Lee and Schuyler, and with a brilliant escort.  He had ridden but twenty miles when he was met by the news of Bunker Hill.  “Did the militia fight?” was the immediate and characteristic question; and being told that they did fight, he exclaimed, “Then the liberties of the country are safe.”  Given the fighting spirit, Washington felt he could do anything.  Full of this important intelligence he pressed forward to Newark, where he was received by a committee of the provincial congress, sent to conduct the commander-in-chief to New York.  There he tarried long enough to appoint Schuyler to the charge of the military affairs in that colony, having mastered on the journey its complicated social and political conditions.  Pushing on through Connecticut he reached Watertown, where he was received by the provincial congress of Massachusetts, on July 2, with every expression of attachment and confidence.  Lingering less than an hour for this ceremony, he rode on to the headquarters at Cambridge, and when he came within the lines the shouts of the soldiers and the booming of cannon announced his arrival to the English in Boston.